


Brand New Family

by cecilantro



Series: 100 Days Of Ficlets [44]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 15:08:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14287608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilantro/pseuds/cecilantro
Summary: Beau doesn't cry, but when she does, she should pick someone better to cry on. (Despite the fact that she picked the best.)





	Brand New Family

**Author's Note:**

> half molly & beau because they have such a beautiful relationship, half just, super duper gay fluffy shit.

Seeing Beau, of all of them, cry, is fucking  _ tragic _ . The last person anyone would expect, and she’s sobbing into her hands with her back pressed to the cold wall of the side alley and it’s not  _ neat _ , like so much that she does, like her fighting, it’s messy and choked.   
She could have gone alone, disappeared into the shadows for a bit, nobody would have questioned her but she needed  _ someone _ . And she could have chosen any other of the Nein, they all have their own reasons to be there with her. Fjord, the unshakeable friendship and sage advisor to Beau’s emotions, is the first to come to mind. He would know what to do, where to sit, to put his hands, what words to say.   
Jester, sleeping against Beau’s back at night and cuddling her when nobody else is around to see, the soft side to Beau no-one else, save Yasha, knows about, as far as Beau is aware, even though they definitely do. And Yasha herself, though emotionally clueless, Beau is head over heels and that’s the trait most loved in reassurance. Caleb, because he cares so much and he’s a social idiot but he’s graceful and careful and logical and Beau says that she lives by logic. Or Nott, even, there’s so much wisdom and trickery and laughter inside Nott’s tiny frame, she would have been an impeccable choice for a cry buddy.   
But Beau has chosen Molly. One moment he was stuck to Caleb’s side with a hand on his shoulder and whispers in his ear, the next, Beau had his wrist in a solid grasp and had pulled him, whipping, out of sight. And as soon as she could no longer be seen, she’d collapsed into the wall and started crying her eyes out and Molly  _ stares _ at first because  _ Beau hates him _ .   
The reasons it could be wheel through his head, that she wants something from him, that it’s about Yasha, and that would make the most sense, he crouches next to her because she hates him and he thinks she’s irritating but he loves her, in a sense, not the way that he loves Caleb, or Fjord, but he  _ loves her _ and she’s family, now, too.   
“Hey.” He pokes at her with the side of a fist, “Annoying one. Open up.”   
Beau peels a hand from her face and shoots him a death glare and he chuckles. Still his Beau.   
He sits, cross-legged, the floor is cold but not damp, it’s not horrific, he doesn’t mind.   
“Alright, can you talk? Words for yes, blink for no.”   
He sees her lips tremble and fresh tears spring at a croak and she blinks, instead, slow and deliberate and he nods.   
“Fairs is fairs, next question,” He holds three fingers up on his right hand, folds one down with his left, “Can I touch you? Once for yes, twice for no.” There’s a frown, and he adds, “I’m not going to scoop you up, Beau, for fuck’s sake, we’ll establish boundaries.”   
She blinks once. He folds down a second finger.   
“Good job. I’m going to list some things, blink if something  _ is _ okay and will help, okay? Do you understand?”   
A blink.   
“Okay. Hugs.” No blink, “An arm around your shoulders?” There’s no eloquence, he can’t shorten, she doesn’t blink, “Hm. Kisses.”   
Beau blinks and it startles him,   
“Forehead only, I assume?”   
Two blinks.   
“Hands?” Two blinks, “Hair?” One. “Okay.”   
Beau takes a breath that stutters, and winces, Molly does too, he knows that feeling and it’s horrible,   
“Can I put my hand on you? Your shoulder?”   
Beau blinks and he sets his right hand to her shoulder immediately, over the fabric of her shirt, gives a faint squeeze of reassurance. She re-covers her face, but Molly hears her breath slowing, it’s satisfying in some way and he leans over, careful to avoid other contact, and plants a gentle kiss to her head through her hair, just above the shaved line.   
They stay still and otherwise silent, Molly keeps his hand on her shoulder, and eventually, she loosens enough to wipe her damp hands on her pants and reach up to set her own hand over his.   
“Thanks, Molly.” Her voice is uncharacteristically quiet, Molly wants to scoop her up and hug her there and then, but that’s not what Beau is about, he substitutes for another soft squeeze.   
“And here I was, thinking you hated me.” He jokes lightly, and she shakes with silent chuckles, it’s a victory for him.    
“Nah.” She tells him, her voice is stronger now, “I just... think you’re obnoxious. You’re actually kinda c-” she fakes choking on her own words, and it makes Molly laugh, quietened delight,   
“Go on, coward, say it.” He challenges, and she glares at him again but there’s no heat to it,   
“You’re kinda cool, I  _ guess _ , when you stop showin’ off, or flirting with Caleb in the middle of the damn street.”   
“Like you and Yasha, you mean?”   
“Yeah!” Beau throws her free hand up, “That’s my job.” and he laughs again, he feels her hand over his press a little harder and then disappear and fuck, it’s so cold,   
“The others’ll worry about us.” He doesn’t want to rush her, he also doesn’t want the Nein to come searching for them when they’re all technically irresponsible criminals and Beau’s face is still flushed from crying. It’s mostly the second. He’d argue that it was the first. She draws a deep breath and it stutters only once in the middle, Molly is so proud of her recovery,   
“Yeah. Yeah, we should catch up, d’you have a flask?”   
Molly takes his hand, finally, from her shoulder to unfasten it, it’s only half full of water but that’s not what she needs it for, he hands it over. She waves it in the cool night air for a few seconds, then presses it to her face, over her eyes and cheeks and huffs in distaste for the cold but manages a  _ thanks _ , or what sounds like it, at least, Molly stands up and dusts himself down. Straightens himself out. Waits for Beau to finish, she stands beside him and hands his flask back to him, all silence and grim expressions and she brushes past, he follows, they stop at the edge of the alleyway and she turns, there, and hugs him, one-armed and awkward but heartfelt and warm despite everything.   
“Uh. Thanks.” And she takes off in the direction the Nein had been walking, he has to push to keep on her heels.

  
Caleb grabs Molly by the lapels and kisses his hard when they catch up, Fjord’s hand thumps onto his shoulder,    
“You can  _ not _ just disappear like that.” Fjord vocalises Caleb’s muted displeasure, because the wizard’s mouth is otherwise preoccupied with punishments of other kinds. Molly hums in his throat, reaches around awkwardly to put his hand to Fjord’s chest and when Caleb is done with his pseudo-angry smooching, Fjord pulls them both in to a hug too tight to not have broken at least one of Molly’s ribs, surely, he felt something crack. He  _ heard _ something crack, and so did Jester, apparently, she scooches a little closer and he feels her tail twine with his and hears words in muttered Infernal and the rib replaces itself and the sudden pain fades into a dull ache instead, he marks a mental note to thank her later, she’s mostly preoccupied with Beau, anyway, littering her cheeks with light kisses, as best she can with one of Yasha's arms around both of their shoulders.    
“Beau and I, we, ah,” Molly looks to Beau and she’s squinting at him for his excuse, waiting, and he feels a grin crawling to his lips and pulling, “We found a shop that sells some  _ very _ interesting and borderline illegal botanical items.”   
There’s a flash of red rage in Beau’s eyes and it disappears as suddenly as it came, she smirks,   
“Nah, they weren’t  _ borderline illegal _ , Molly, c’mon. They were, like,  _ super fucking illegal _ and I think he might be high.” She manages to free a hand enough to jerk a thumb at Molly, “His tolerance ain’t as high as mine, y’know, delicate and all that bullshit.”   
He thinks he might stab her. Just a little bit. Just a little stab, what’s a little stabbing between friends, that’s dangerously close to Nott territory, he remembers her suddenly and reaches out to ruffle her hair because he knows she hates it.   
“What about you?” He asks her, ignoring Beau’s chuckles from under Yasha’s chin, “Did you worry about me?”   
“Yes.” Nott says, flatly, there’s not even anger in her eyes, she nips her sharp teeth through the air just beside his wrist, flash-quick, and he pulls back. She has bitten him before, it’s not particularly pleasant, her teeth are small but sharp. He looks from her to Beau once more before they move on, she mouths something that could be  _ thank you _ or  _ fuck you _ , he can’t quite tell.

 

He flumps down in the inn, rests his head in Caleb’s lap and lets the wizard card his fingers unconsciously through dark hair. Cramming seven people (and a cat) into one room is difficult, yes, but they’re running low on money and they alternate with Beau and Jester on who gets to take the double. Tonight, it’s the girls, Yasha is with them and it’s not every night they get that pleasure so they give the bed over willingly. Nott has staked claim to a single, they’re all happy to let her have it, and the boys can, generally, squish their way into the three-quarter on the other side of the room. It’s never quite as comfortable as the double, but Molly enjoys sleeping  _ literally on top _ of Fjord and Caleb, and they can never bring themselves to bring down their tiefling when he’s genuinely happy or excited.   
Nott is on the far side, she’s fiddling with something or other, Jester sits on the edge of the double to talk to her, she'll curl up with her girlfriends later. And speaking of, Yasha and Beau are already asleep on the other side of the bed, despite the fact it’s not even truly dark yet. It’s been a long, hard day for Beau, she’s curled up against Yasha and wrapped in her arms, Molly can hear Beau's steady breathing when he concentrates and he’s a little shocked by how relieved the sound makes him. Caleb’s hands still in his hair.   
“Your mind is not on the moment, Mollymauk.” He says firmly, and begins stroking again as Molly’s eyes flick up to meet his. Fjord hums from his spot against Caleb’s back,   
“‘S Molly tunin’ out again?”   
“Ah, nothing wrong with tuning out.” Molly protests jovially, holds a finger up pointedly, Caleb huffs and tightens his fingers a little, just a slight pull on Molly’s hair and he bites his tongue against the noise that threatens in his throat.   
“No, there isn’t, there is an issue with people like you and I, that we fall backwards into the clock of our memories if it is not controlled.”   
“It’s not that kind of tuning out.” Molly promises, his hand unfurls and stretches to Caleb’s face, a gentle stroke, Caleb kisses his fingertips and Molly feels his heart melt in his chest, he loves so much.   
“As long as you’re okay.” Fjord puts in, and there’s another hand on Molly’s head as he reaches around, blind, and pats where he can reach. It’s mostly his horn, there’s the jingle of jewellery and the pat if Fjord just catching his forehead but it’s fine, it’s okay, it’s Fjord and he loves Molly and Molly loves him. Caleb re-positions his hands under Molly’s horns and pulls him up a little, just enough that he can double over, painfully, and press a kiss to Molly’s lips and Molly  _ sighs  _ against his mouth.    
“Gods,” he says, quietly, and Caleb feels the brush of every word, “I was lucky to find you.”


End file.
